


Fire of Destiny

by TwilightRealmWolf



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Betrayal, Blood and Violence, Forbidden Love, Immortal Fake AH Crew, M/M, Mystery, undercover cop AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6624814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightRealmWolf/pseuds/TwilightRealmWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A life of crime is no life to lead; or at least, that’s what everyone else has always said. For Ryan Haywood, the infamous cold killer “Vagabond”,  he’s spent countless years heavily involved in the deeply rooted crime ring in the city of Los Santos along side his notorious crew, known to all as The Fake AH Crew. </p><p>When you choose to lead a treacherous life, you all but sign your mortality away into the hands of corruption. Though, when each time you find yourself fatally injured and swallowed in the black nothingness, only to wake up back on your couch in a blood soaked shirt but no bullet holes to match, that problem doesn’t come to the front of the mind. The only thoughts in your mind are of the completion of the task at hand, no matter what it will take to finish it.</p><p>So, when Ryan finds himself running into the same man time and time again, he begins to grow suspicious of his true intentions. All of his life - and he had had quite the long one - he had been taught to eliminate anyone or anything standing in his way, but with this man, something was different. </p><p>Maybe this time, someone would change Ryan’s life, whether it be for the better or for the worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello there! I just want to start by saying that I am SO EXCITED to be finally posting this work! I've been sitting on it for awhile, but for some reason I just never got around to posting it until now. This work is already planned out to full completion, so this won't be like my usual fics where I just start writing and see where it goes. Hopefully, since it's all planned out, that'll mean that I can get this updated pretty frequently so it'll get finished within a reasonable amount of time. This work should end up being pretty lengthy, and I'm looking forward to it being the longest fic I've ever written. I hope you all will stick around with me until it sees it's end. These first few chapters are just a small introduction, but the action will start up real soon, and I'm very excited.
> 
> Enjoy!

All was silent except for the creak of the old door that lead into the dimly lit, musty office. The room was only lit by a simple desk lamp and the illuminated computer screen that sat atop the desk in the center of the room. Behind the desk sat the sheriff, typing away at the paperwork of the day with his thick rimmed glasses hanging onto the bridge of his nose. His stare was intense, focused on the completion of the task. If one looked hard enough, they could see the slight bite he had on his lower lip as he thought back to the details of the previous day, trying to remember the mundane specifics without having to look down at the file strewn out across his desk.

As the door let out a loud creak, shattering the focused and content silence that claimed the room, he looked up at the source of the noise. As a man walked through the doorway, the sheriff reached up and grasped at the black frames of his glasses, removing them in one fluid movement of his hand. He set them down quietly on his desk as he tilted his head up from the lit screen, turning all of his focus on the man that had walked through the door. He stood in a relaxed way in front of the sheriff's desk, seemingly unnerved and in some ways, even confident. He remained silent, hanging on the silence that filled the room in patient waiting for the sheriff to speak. 

Crossing his arms, the sheriff looked over the man’s face, features seemingly unrecognizable from the normal. He then moved his eyes to look over his body, which was shrouded in a larger, darkly colored hoodie and jeans, unlike his typical tightly fit shirts combined with similarly tightly-fitting jeans to match. With one more once over, the sheriff cleared his throat and broke the silence with two words of both initiation and dismissal.

“You’re ready.”

With a quiet, quick nod, the man turned around and stalked out of the room, closing the squeaking door as he went. Then, silence fell over the room once again, as if nothing had ever happened in the first place.

 

* * *

 

 

The tires of a motorbike squealed through the silence of the night. The squealing ceased as the bike pulled up to the front of an abandoned warehouse that remained hidden under the bridges of various freeways intersecting, still busy with cars scattered here and there, keeping the hustle and bustle of Los Santos continuing into the late hours of the night. At the same time, rain pattered onto the tin roof of the warehouse, creating a somewhat calm yet chilling ambiance. Puddles formed on the ground and water ran off down the steep hills that surrounded the warehouse, creating small creeks and waterfalls that lead to larger puddles of rocks and mud.

As the bike ceased all movement, the driver killed the engine, returning the night to its typical silence. There were two men sat on the bike, the taller and bulkier of the two being the driver. Both of them got off the bike and their sneakers squeaked in the water as they removed their helmets, setting them down on the bike before beginning to walk in the direction of the entrance to the abandoned building. 

The smallest of the two, a shorter black haired man, broke the silence first.

“Man, talk about creepy. Who chooses a place like this for a ‘meeting’?” He asks, putting the last word in air quotes. The larger man simply just grunted, seemingly unamused by his partner at that moment.

“Ray,” He begins, saying the younger man’s name with the slightest sigh he could manage, “We’re criminals. This is the kind of thing that criminals do. Shady meetups, rainy weather, creepy ambiance. It’s just something about what we do that just requires this.” 

“Yeah I get that,” The younger, Ray, says, “But it still seems unnecessary. Plus the rain should make your facepaint run, Ryan, and that just makes you seem like a messy criminal rather than an intimidating one. Just saying.”

The larger of the two, Ryan, grunts in acknowledgement, holding back a smile. Ray looks up at him as he adjusts the sniper on his back and laughs once.

“I can tell you’re trying not to smile. I know my boyfriend, you know. Maybe you know him too, he’s a pretty swell guy. He’s pretty intimidating too, so don’t try to make any moves on me buddy. Except sometimes, when it rains, and he looks all messy. That just doesn’t do it for me, honestly,” Ray jokes, his voice playful to match the playful smile on his face. Ryan looks down at him and shows the smile that he’d been holding back briefly before letting it drop, his serious facial expression returning as he stops walking. He reaches one hand into his leather jacket pocket and pulls out his grey skull mask as he turns to face Ray.

“Okay, you know the drill right?” Ryan asks and Ray nods in affirmation. Despite the approving gesture, Ryan continues on anyways. “I go in, you keep an eye on me from afar. I’ll talk to these guys, see if they’re really a crowd that we need to be looking out for. Only shoot if I look like I’m in trouble, I don’t want them to know that you’re with me.” 

Once again, Ray nods in affirmation, this time adding a joking salute to it. Ryan smiles briefly as he puts on his mask, but all emotion goes away after the mask takes its place. Ryan nods once to Ray, and Ray turns around and begins walking towards one of the hills to take the higher ground. Ryan watches him briefly as he stalks off towards a giant cement support pillar to use as cover, but he turns away after only a few seconds and begins walking towards the warehouse. As soon as he approached the creaky old rusted door, he heard voices from the inside whispering amongst each other. Ryan hesitated, pausing to listen in the hopes that he may be able to decipher some of their conversation, but the voices spoke too quickly and quietly for Ryan to understand from such a distance. Shrugging his shoulders once, Ryan walks inside, the old door letting out an ear piercing scream as he does so. 

Immediately, as soon as he set foot within the warehouse, four figures turned towards him, standing upright and somewhat casually, seeming relaxed despite the criminal rendezvous. Ryan walked towards them with confidence, not letting his posture show any weakness whatsoever. As he walked, he surveyed the rival crew members, first looking over the three presented in the forefront, but then to the one that stood in the back. He wore a dark hoodie, the hood up and covering most of his face, as well as dark pants that covered up any defining parts to his body that he may have had. Ryan looked at his face, and when he did, he found the man staring back intently, his piercing green eyes seeming calm and collected on the outside, but behind them, they were swimming with anxiety. Ryan looked him over for a few more moments until one of the rival members cleared their throat, bringing Ryan’s focus to his rugged face, much unlike the shrouded figure stood behind him. 

“So, the Vagabond makes an appearance,” The man in the front states. He has black hair and a beard that seemed unruly to Ryan, much unlike Jack or Geoff’s ever were. His eyes seemed dull, unlike those of the man that was stood silently behind them. Ryan simply grunts in acknowledgement, earning confused stares from the three men. 

“Well, mister Vagabond, we’d like to establish… a deal, of sorts. Would you perhaps be interested?” A second man asked, stepping up in order to be right beside the first one. He had blond, long hair, much too long for Ryan’s taste. Ryan simply stares at him for a moment before he steps up slightly in order to more properly engage in conversation.

“Depends on what the deal is,” Ryan answers simply, leaving no room for any other interpretation other than the genuine meaning. The men shift under his intense gaze, but not by much. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Ryan was observing them. no normal person would have noticed the change.

“Well, we have jewels. Lot’s of jewels, you see, and we’re looking for a buyer. In this day in age, money talks,” The black haired man says, wringing his hands together briefly before letting them fall down at his sides. “Plus, we’ve heard that that Fake AH Crew of yours has money. Which, coincidentally, is exactly what we need. So, what do you say, Vagabond? Shall we make a deal?” 

The man across from Ryan extends out a scarred hand and Ryan eyes it carefully, not making any moves to reach out to the man. The man slowly retracts his hand and, before he has the opportunity to say anything more, Ryan breaks the tense silence. 

“We’ll think about it, I have to take this back to our crew leader before I can make any calls,” Ryan says, and the men across from him all seem to deflate from their previous confident stance, except for the man in the back. He still continued to stand straight, his face stone but his eyes swimming with buried and suppressed anxiety.

“You do understand the magnitude and sheer possibilities we’re offering you here, right?” The blond asks, irritation in his voice. Ryan glared into his eyes, analyzing the growing impatience in them. After the man continued to stare, Ryan still continuing to say nothing, he continued on.

“We sell you these jewels, and you give us money up front for them. Then, you can turn around and sell them for yourselves and make an  _ even larger  _ profit! It’s the perfect deal, you would be fucking stupid to not take this-”

“Based on the haggard and frankly  _ skittish  _ look of all of you, I don’t think  _ you _ can tell me what is and isn’t stupid.”

The men all exchanged nervous glances with each other, but quickly all turned back to glare at Ryan.

“I’m just saying, I feel like this is a pretty easy decision to make, even for the notoriously badass  _ Vagabond _ ,” The blonde sneered his name, seeming to have resorted to taunts in an attempt to close the deal. Frankly, Ryan couldn’t believe what he was witnessing.

“We’ll be in touch.” Ryan states, giving the man in the back one more gaze before turning around and walking out, his sneakers squeaking across the smooth cement ground before being drowned out by the deafening squeal of the rusted door. Ryan proceeded to walk out towards his bike, smiling slightly beneath the mask as he makes eye contact with a very bored looking Ray who was leaning up against Ryan’s favorite motorbike. Ray simply nodded once, his face remaining expressionless as he watched Ryan approach him. Once Ryan was near the bike, Ray casually slung his bright pink sniper rifle across his back and reached for his helmet, dawning it quickly as Ryan did his.

As Ray flung himself up and onto the back of the bike, Ryan slammed on the gas, sending the bike skidding across the soaked pavement with a shrill squeal of the tires that seemed to echo off the abandoned warehouse and the cement towers surrounding it. Quickly, Ryan sped out of the warehouse area and up a muddy dirt hill, tires slipping around the sharp turn he began to take in order to return to the normal pavement of the city. Once he balanced out on his way out of the skid, he sped off down the straight away, setting off for the penthouse that served as the crew's safe house.

 

* * *

 

 

The garage was smooth and quiet as Ray and Ryan pulled up to the penthouse that was nestled perfectly in the hustle and bustle of downtown Los Santos. Ryan slowly rode into the shared crew garage that was located in the basement of the large apartment structure that was used specifically for the crew's cars when they all met up at the modern penthouse for planning and collaboration. 

As he rode into the garage, Ryan looked around to see the multiple cars that had become staples of each crew member, including the large Roosevelt that belonged to Michael that they used whenever they did any jobs as a crew. Looking at the large vehicle brought memories to the front of Ryan’s mind, thoughts of some of their heists and just some general fun outings that they had all taken, and the smile spread wider as he noticed Geoff’s newly acquired hot pink super car. Why the man had all of a sudden taking a liking to the rather loud color, he could never tell.

With a turn of the key, the engine cut quickly, an empty silence filling the garage around them. Each man swung themselves off the bike quickly, taking their helmets off in a swift, easy movement, followed by each man setting their helmets down on the bike’s seat. Once that was done, Ryan took the lead and set off towards the elevator, Ray directly behind in tow. The ding of the elevator filled the comfortable silence momentarily, which was then followed by the footsteps of the two as they piled into the small metal box. With a press of a button, the doors closed and the elevator quickly began to ascend up to the top of the large apartment building. Ray cleared his throat by coughing once and Ryan looked over at him, to which Ray replied with a small smile before he began to speak.

“So,” He starts, staring down at his feet, “How’d that meeting go?”

Ryan shrugs once. “It wasn’t bad. I could definitely tell that they were newer to this, the whole criminal scene. They tried their hand at intimidation but it didn’t really work on me.”

“Of course it didn’t!” Ray snorts, before adding, “You’re the fuckin’ Vagabond. If you ever told me that someone could intimidate you, I’d assume that the world was coming to an end. Seriously, I’d be concerned as hell and would probably flee the city. No joke.”

“Yeah, okay Ray, sure you would. Just up and leave your boyfriend because someone gives him the heebie jeebies.” Ryan rolls his eyes, adding, “Whatever, Ray.”

Ray opens his mouth to reply, but the ding of the elevator interrupts him before he can continue. The metal doors in front of the men open slowly, opening to a rather loud discussion between Michael and Geoff. At first, it sounded like a business discussion, but Ryan knew better than to guess that the heated talk the two men were having had anything to do with business.

“I’m just saying, why  _ wouldn’t  _ you let some guy finger your asshole for a million dollars?” Michael exclaims as Ryan begins to approach them, causing Ryan to raise a curious eyebrow in response.

“Yeah, Geoff, what’s a finger up the ass between friends?” Ryan asks, interjecting into the conversation in which he had no idea what was happening. Clearly that didn’t matter, judging by Michael’s strangely proud reaction and Geoff’s shocked response. Ryan chooses to ignore the older man’s indignant grufflings in favor of addressing actual business as he pours himself a glass of water from the pitcher someone had left on the counter.

“So, that meeting was… interesting, to say the least,” Ryan begins, hoping to spark an alternate conversation with Geoff than the one he was currently having with Michael. It appeared to work, as Geoff turned his body in order to face Ryan, who was now leaning casually up against the modern kitchen counter.

“Yeah?” Geoff asks, before adding, “What did they want?”

“Nothing much, other than a crew that has money to buy some stolen jewels that they have or some shit like that,” Ryan answers, scoffing at the end to show how ridiculous he thought the whole idea was.

“Wow, okay, yeah,” Geoff replies, “That definitely isn’t us.”

“The only thing that sparked my concern was the fact that they seemed willing to threaten. So I’m gonna wait it out and see what happens. Perhaps they’re peaceful and we just can’t see it. They’re not a threat to us at the moment though- especially because they seem to be as stupid as a bag of rocks- so we’re okay for the time being. I’ll get a handle on it in about a week.”

Geoff snorts, and then nods. “Yeah, that sounds like the best option. Good work Ryan.”

“Thanks, Geoff. I’ll keep an eye on them.”

“Sounds good. Have a good night, boys. We’ll see you guys back here tomorrow to help plan our newest heist,” Geoff dismisses, adding a small wave of his hand before going back to talking with Michael. Ryan nods once in acknowledgement, turning on his heel to begin the walk back towards the elevator. As he walks towards the elevator, he wraps an arm around Ray’s shoulders, tugging him towards his side, and the two walk together into the elevator side by side. Ryan leans forward slightly and presses the button for the garage and the doors close, leaving the two men alone. 

With a sigh in the comfortable silence, Ryan gathers his thoughts from the day and smiles contently, looking down at the smaller man held in one of his arms.

Man, was the criminal life good.

 

* * *

 

 

The old door of the musty office still creaked once again as the mystery man walked through it, noticing the sheriff still sat at his desk in the dimly lit space just as he had left him a mere few hours prior. As he walked in, the door closing behind him, he clears his throat, quickly catching the attention of the man perched behind the old desk. The man looked up into the intruders eyes, his face expressionless as he reached up to once again remove the glasses from his face. He coughed once, then began to address the mysterious man in the room.

“How’d it go?” He asks simply, his voice serious.

“It went fine, sir. I think they need to be taken care of, and quickly.”

The sheriff hums in acknowledgement, nodding once as he makes a note in his computer that was sat directly in front of him. Once he finished typing away at the chiclet keys on his keyboard he looks back up at the man stood in front of his desk.

“You have all the information needed to take care of that, don’t you?”

The man nods, a signal of his affirmation.

“Good. Take care of it before the end of tomorrow. I trust that you have the ability to make that deadline?” The sheriff asks, his tone grievous. The man stood in front of him unmoving, signifying that he indeed had no problems meeting the time constraints provided for his task.

“Fantastic. Now get out of here, I have work to finish,” The sheriff dismisses, reaching down to grab his glasses off of his wooden desk, setting them on his nose easily. He looks back a his computer screen and begins to type away once more.

In front of him, the mystery man turns on his heel, making a complete 180 before reaching a hand for the old metal doorknob, letting himself out with ease.

The only noise left in the building was the sound of the creaking door shutting against its frame, then all was silent once again.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter than the beginning, since action starts to go down in this chapter. I've had these chapters saved up for awhile, so I'm just posting what I have so far because I'm so excited for you guys to read this story! Let me know what you think so far!

The sound of a motorcycle engine once again filled the air of the shared garage, just as it had less than 12 hours prior. Ryan cut the engine quickly and slung his foot over the metal frame, dismounting himself off of the black and crew-colored green bike with ease. He quickly removed his helmet and set it down on the seat, starting off towards the elevator immediately afterwards. The doors opened as soon as he pressed the button and Ryan walked in, pressing the penthouse button before leaning casually against the railing. 

Though, once he pressed the button, he saw Michael open the garage, pulling in with his chrome Adder. Ryan then mashed the button to keep the door open, not wanting Michael to have to go through the immensely long wait while the elevator took him up to the penthouse combined with the time it took to get all the way back down to the basement level. Michael parked his car next to Ryan’s bike, hitting the musical horn once before killing the engine and getting out of the vehicle. He smiled as he made eye contact with Ryan, locking his car once before stepping into the metal box. Ryan then hit the button to make the door close, and the two were on their way up soon after.

“Mornin’, Rye-bread,” Michael greets, his tone sleepy as he hadn’t had his morning Red Bull yet.

“Hey Michael,” Ryan responds, a small smile on his face. Michael could actually see the look on his face for once, as Ryan had yet to have put on his menacing face paint or his mask yet. Right now, he was just regular ‘ol Ryan.

“So, you really must’ve felt like that crew you met with last night was a threat,” Michael says, his voice mimicking a slight stun. Ryan looks over at him, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Huh? What makes you think that?” He asks, his voice filled with curiosity as he watched the man next to him.

“I had on the news this morning while I was in the shower. A local crew was busted by the LSPD yesterday, they said that the crew had over a billion dollars worth of fake jewels. Apparently the crew was trying to convince other crews to buy their ‘very real’ diamonds for lots of money. The whole thing was a huge plot to scam the big leaders of Los Santos,” Michael answers, never looking up from the email he was reading on his phone. A very confused expression crossed Ryan’s face as Michael added, “Nice catch, Rye.”

“It wasn’t me though. Like, I know I met with them last night but I swear, it wasn’t me,” He asserts, his voice perplexed. Though, just as Michael opened his mouth to reply the large metal doors opened to the penthouse, and Ryan was immediately met with the other three faces of the other crew members. As the two men stepped out, Geoff walked over to Ryan and clapped a proud hand on his back.

“Ryan, I swear we discussed not busting that crew yet but  _ damn  _ buddy, good catch! How did you know that they were trying to scam us for all the money we had?”

“It-” Ryan tries to say, but Michael cuts him off before he can manage to get any more words out.

“Right? That’s what I asked, Geoff! He made a damn good call turning them into the LSPD. I was shocked when I heard that they got arrested late last night!” Michael exclaims, his eyes bright and his smile wide. From across the counter, Jack nodded in agreement, a large smile plastered on his face as well.

“Guys!” Ryan exclaims, and all chatter in the room ceases at once. “It wasn’t me! Me and Geoff discussed last night that I wasn’t going to do anything with them yet, and that I needed to watch them for awhile before I made any calls on if they were dangerous to us or not. I didn’t do anything after I left here last night, I swear.”

“Wait, seriously?” A voice asks, and Ryan turns to spot Ray sitting on the couch, 3DS in hand.

“Yes, seriously. I didn’t have any clues that they were trying to scam us. I went home after last night and that was it.”

“Well,  _ I  _ know that wasn’t  _ all  _ that you did last night after leaving here,” Ray explains, his voice playful, “but I didn’t know that you had just left the whole thing alone. I seriously thought that once I fell asleep you had written an anonymous tip to the LSPD and that caused them to track down that crew before dawn even broke.”

“Nope,” Ryan asserts, quickly growing tired of having to keep telling them that he had nothing to do with the situation. “It wasn’t me. I did absolutely nothing.”

“Well, that’s strange then,” Jack interjects, his voice concerned. “That means that someone was watching them last night, probably someone from the department. How else would they have known that that crew specifically was trying to cut scheme deals with major influences in the city? There must’ve been a tip to them somehow, or else they were there spying. If it’s the case of the latter, we should probably be very worried that the police are somehow onto us too.”

“I hadn’t thought about it that way,” Geoff replies thoughtfully, “He’s probably right.”

Ryan simply shrugs. “I mean, they weren’t really that smart anyways, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone just didn’t want to put up with their shit.”

“Maybe that’s true too, who knows. Just be on your guard for the next little while, guys.” Geoff says, leaving his spot in order to walk towards the fridge. “Just get your jobs done for the day, that’s all I care about. Now get the fuck out of here, do what you gotta do.”

Ryan nods, and quickly turns around and begins to walk out of the apartment, opening the front door in favor of taking the stairs instead of the elevator this time in his interest of avoiding further conversation on the topic.

 

* * *

 

 

The warehouse was quiet, and the man stood alone, awaiting the arrival of others. The only thing around him was the dense silence that filled the atmosphere, which was tense with his anxiety that ran laps around his brain. Minutes passed, but then a loud crash could be heard from the back of the immense darkness. Two men emerged from the dark, and the man watched as they strode towards him quickly.

Though, while the man had been expecting a talk or a meeting, it seemed that the others had a different agenda in mind. Within seconds the two men had their hands on him, beating him down to the floor without mercy. Once he was grounded they continued, only with harsh poundings from their feet instead of their balled up fists. With each hit he could visualize the bruises blooming on his tan skin, a new one blossoming with each and every blow. Kicks continued to be dealt to his screaming abdomen, but one man crouched down and positioned himself near his body, and with a reel back of his arm, he slashed into his side, a blade slicing an intricately drawn line down the length of his abdomen, the shining blade drawn along with a strong vigor only a strong arm could muster. The time that elapsed felt like hours before he found himself alone once again, curled up on the ground in a newly forming puddle of his own blood.

He let out a single, muffled cry, and then the silence took over once again.

 

* * *

 

“How many times do I have to fucking say that I didn’t do it?” Ryan exclaims, his voice shrill with irritation.

“You can say it as much as you want, no matter how many times you say it I’m still not going to believe you!” Ray shouts, “Things just don’t add up! It doesn’t make sense that a crew would get busted and thrown away in jail mere  _ hours  _ after you had met with them. None of this makes any sense, Ryan, and you’re just digging the hole deeper by insisting that you had no involvement!”

“At least you acknowledge my insistence, because each and every time, and there have been  _ numerous  _ times, I keep having to say that  _ I didn’t do it! _ ”

“Someone must’ve done it!” Ray explodes, finally hitting the end of his fuse after the prolonged fight between him and his boyfriend.

“Yes, and I’m not saying that you’re wrong, but I’m saying that that someone  _ wasn’t me _ !” Ryan shouts, matching his boyfriends volume with ease.

“Someone must’ve done it,” Ray repeats, at a quieter volume, “and that someone wasn’t me. So how about you stop  _ lying _ about it and just confess that you had them turned in without any proof!”

“ _ I’m not lying! _ ” Ryan screams, his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his fists balled at his sides.

“That’s the only thing that makes any sort of sense! Plus, it wouldn’t be so out of character for you, would it? You’ve lied many  _ many  _ times before without much issue, why would now be any different?”

Ryan stood in front of Ray, mouth agape and eyes wide. The words stung like the sharpest knife had just been plunged into the depths of his chest by the younger man, and he could feel the faint sting begin at the backs of his eyes. Though, he repressed all emotion quickly and gathered his thoughts in a moment before clearing his throat.

“That’s how you truly see it?” Ryan questions, his volume low and his tone serious.

“Yeah, that is how I truly see it. That’s how I’ve always seen it, since day fucking one.” Ray answers, pure venom in his tone.

There's a moment of silence before Ryan breaks it. “Fine, if that’s how you’ve always seen it, then I can’t stop you. But I can stop this,” Ryan says, gesturing between the two men quickly with his hands, “ _ This _ is done. It’s been a long time coming, don’t even try to deny it anymore. Then it would be  _ you  _ lying. Hey, maybe then you’d be just like me, wouldn’t you?”

Ray stands in front of him, unmoving with no expression of emotion on his face, but there was evident pain behind his eyes. “Okay then, if you say so. I’m gone.”

With that, Ray snatched his keys off the apartment counter and stormed out, slamming the door hard behind him. Ryan stood still for a moment, his muscles tense and his eyes squinted, before he reached to the counter to grab his own set of keys himself. He walked calmly into the hallway, locking the door behind him, and set off for the elevator of the building, not even noticing the fact that he was walking out without his mask or face paint dawning his facial features. It took a few minutes, but eventually Ryan found himself downstairs in the basement of his building climbing onto his bike with ease, kicking the engine swiftly to life. He rode out of the garage quickly, speeding down the apartment’s drive and onto the street, headed directly for the hills by the Vinewood sign. 

Hell, a little therapeutic ride never hurt anyone. Especially not Ryan.

The wind whipped through his hair without effort, the familiarity making Ryan smile with each new, stronger gust. Without a helmet he felt free, unconstrained by the limits of the object. He carefully guided his bike in between traffic and pedestrians, never stopping for anyone nor anything. Riding up the hills, he found himself going off the road frequently, growing rather impatient at the traffic at the late hour of the night. As he rode, the observatory that was sat atop the mountain came steadily closer and closer into view, and within seconds he was parked in the parking lot. 

Killing the engine quickly, Ryan dismounted his bike and eagerly strode off towards a rather large-trunked tree that was sat on the edge of the steep decline of the mountain. He braced himself before slowly beginning to climb the thick trunk and the hearty branches, heaving himself up towards the spot nestled in the top between the two highest branches.

The spot was peaceful in the late hours of the night- no traffic around him to cause a large amount of noise, a small amount of light which allowed him to gaze up at the stars, high enough to where he could feel even the smallest wind gust through his hair- it was the best form of therapy out there. Every time he came up here he would relax within minutes, all the stressors of his daily life melting away like the ice of winter at the start of spring. Each time he felt new, reborn from his own weakness into something stronger, someone better equipped to handle the situations at hand. He breathed in the air with one deep breath, taking in the comfortable silence around him.

Though, as he sat, he heard a noise. It sounded like a cry out for help, followed by a pained whimper. At first, Ryan just thought he was hearing things as the breeze whipped through the high branches, but as he heard the whimpered cries once more, he knew that there had to be a source, and that it had to be nearby.

Quickly, Ryan climbed out of the peaceful tree and began to walk around the brush, listening intently for any more cries. For a few moments, there were none, but eventually a soft, muffled cry came from the ground, the source just beyond a mangled bush on the mountain. Ryan strode over hesitantly, watching each step he took as he neared the bush. With intense hesitation, Ryan used his hand to peel back the bush, but once he saw what sat beyond it, all his hesitation immediately melted away and transformed into urgency.

Sat beyond the sharp wooden branches of the bush was a man with a rather small build, curled up into himself, clothes soaked with a rusty color as if he’d just been swimming in a pool of acrylic paints. His arms were tucked in around his stomach, protectively shielding his ribs and abdomen tightly. As he sat, sobs of pain racked his body constantly, seeming to only put him in further agony with each small movement. Once Ryan had pulled back the branches to reveal the man, he had locked eyes with the injured figure and the agonized man had flinched hard, causing his abdomen to bloom with a brighter red, accompanied with a loud cry, pure agony filling the air around them. Ryan quickly ran around the bush and kneeled next to the injured man, looking over his body in an evaluation of injuries. The man tried once again to flinch away from Ryan, but it once again only caused further pain, so the man was forced to sit still beneath Ryan’s gaze.

“Shit, okay,” Ryan mumbles to himself, running his eyes over the body sat in front of him in an effort to find what he could do to assist. “I can help you, if you’ll let me. It looks like you have a laceration somewhere on your body, if all of this blood is any indication. Plus, the way you’re holding your abdomen leads me to believe that you may have a few broken ribs.” Ryan deduces, talking more so to himself than the man, but he sees the man looking at him all the same. Ryan meets his gaze with kind eyes and nods once, indicating that he wasn’t there to cause more harm. The stranger must’ve understood what he meant as his body visibly relaxed some, the blood flow out of the wound slowing as seconds passed due to the release of tension the man had been holding. 

“Okay, yeah… Yeah, I can help you. Can you talk?” Ryan asks the stranger, his voice nearly a whisper. The man opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a strangled pained cry, which Ryan immediately takes as a sign that he was currently unable to speak. Ryan nods once to himself again, taking note of how bad of shape the man really was in.

“Alright, then it wouldn’t do me much good to ask you what the hell happened. That’s fine, not a big deal. Would you like me to help you? I can take you to one of my friends, he’s an excellent medic, he patches me and my friends up all the time.” 

The man looks into Ryan’s eyes, and Ryan can see the doubt and hesitation swimming in his emerald green eyes. Ryan shakes his head quickly.

“There’s nothing you have to be worried about, I promise. Jack is a good man, he won’t do anything to hurt you or put you in any more danger than you’ve clearly already been in. I won’t do anything either, I mean you no harm whatsoever. I know you probably don’t trust me since I’m just some random stranger that came out of nowhere, but I honestly just want to help you.” Ryan explains, attempting to pacify the man's anxiety as best as he knew how. He waits a few moments before speaking up again. 

“Will you let me help you?”

The man sits under Ryan’s stare in contemplative silence, taking a few moments to think over the offer that he had been dealt. After a few moments of thought, he looks up to Ryan and hesitantly begins to nod in affirmation. Once Ryan notices, he quickly stands up and begins to take off his leather jacket, wrapping the man as tightly as he could without hurting him around the ribs in an attempt to stop the bleeding to prevent him from bleeding out on their way to the safe house.

“Come on,” Ryan says, reaching a hand out for the man to grab. He attempts to, extending his arm upwards weakly. Though, his arm strength gives soon after, and the man is stuck sitting weakly on the ground, seemingly helpless. Ryan sits for a moment, thinking of what he could do next, before he shakes out his shoulders and crouches down next to the man.

“Sorry about this, buddy, but I’m gonna have to carry ya. It’s gonna seem weird, I know, but it’s what I have to do to get you safe. I’ll also have to call for a car to pick us up, simply because I don’t think you’re strong enough to support yourself on my bike,” Ryan tells the stranger, standing up and pulling the cell phone from his back jeans pocket. He’s quick to dial his mechanic, explaining with urgency that he needed a car up near the observatory, particularly one of the sports cars that would enable him with the ability to navigate the Los Santos downtown streets quickly and easily. Within seconds he was hanging up, and was once again crouched down next to the injured stranger. Ryan took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and completely before he began speaking to the man once again.

“Alright, I’m going to pick you up now. It’s probably gonna be uncomfortable and it’ll probably hurt, but just remember that I’m doing this to help you, not to hurt you, okay? I’ll get you to the house and you’ll feel better then, I promise.”  _ They should be fine with this, right? It’s an injured stranger, it’s not like them to just send someone in need away. I’m sure they’ll be fine with this. At this point, they kind of have to be, I’m not gonna give them much option otherwise. _

The man squints his eyes in response and weakly nods, showing that he acknowledged Ryan’s warning. As Ryan wrapped his arms around the man’s body, the stranger cries out in pain, his muscles all ignited on fire at once due to the sudden movement. Ryan tries to make the process as quick and painless as possible, but the man still cried out in pure agony as Ryan adjusted his body in his arms. Once Ryan felt as though the man would be stable, he began to walk back towards the main road, setting off to find his vehicle. Since Ryan’s apartment was located fairly close to the base of the hill that the observatory sat upon, he knew that the delivery of his vehicle should happen at a rather rapid pace, at least within the amount of time it took Ryan to carry the man up the hillside, through the brush and up onto the main road.

As Ryan walked, the man sat limply in his arms, his strength almost completely gone from his body. Ryan found himself looking down on occasion, he and the man locking eyes each time. The stranger’s piercing green eyes were clouded in agony, each little movement causing more and more pain to spread throughout his body. The walk up the hillside was also rather treacherous as well, and occasionally Ryan would trip on a fallen branch or lose his footing on the loose gravel that covered the rugged terrain.

Once Ryan reached the top of the steep hill, about five minutes after he had first started his walk, he scoured the road and the parking lot in search of one of his many sports cars. Upon looking over at the parking lot where he had originally left his motorcycle, he sees his black and green Zentorno, left running by the mechanic so it would be ready to drive as soon as he got into the vehicle. He set off quickly, the flat pavement now enabling him to go at a faster pace. Within seconds they were at the car, and Ryan was laying the passenger seat flat back and was setting the stranger into it, his movements overly guarded and extra careful. He didn’t even bother using the seatbelt for the man, trusting that he would be okay with Ryan without it. Ryan quickly ran around the car and jumped into the passenger seat, quickly throwing the car in reverse. Once he was prepared to do so, he was speeding down the hill, narrowly avoiding cars by slaloming back and forth through the lanes of traffic. Around them, downtown flashed by quickly, horns honking and lights flashing as they passed by. It only took a mere few minutes before they were pulled into the shared group garage of the downtown Fake AH Crew safehouse. 

As soon as they had pulled in, Ryan yanked on the parking brake with force, causing the car to stop suddenly, the tires squealing in protest. Ryan found himself leaping out of the driver's seat quickly before he ran over to the elevator and mashed the button several times. Once he had done that, he ran back over to the passenger side of the vehicle and forced open the door, revealing the now passed out injured man. Paying little regard to the man’s injuries, Ryan pulls him from the confinements of the seat quickly before running to the now opening elevator doors. The ride up to the penthouse was painfully slow, far too slow for Ryan’s liking. Though, as soon as the elevator dinged, he was running into the apartment, and he instantly began calling out.

“Guys, where’s Jack? I need him,  _ now _ !”

Geoff was the first to respond, standing up from where he was sat reclining on the couch. 

“Ryan, what are you yelling abou-oh my god, what the fuck?” Geoff yells, pure shock and surprise coating his words.

“Where’s Jack?” Ryan repeats, his voice growing more fierce and urgent.

“Why do you need to know?” Michael asks from the kitchen, unable to see the scene set out in the foyer.

“I need to know because I have a man that’s probably  _ dying _ ! Now  _ where is he _ ?” Ryan questions once again, his tone demanding.

“How did you even  _ find  _ this guy, Ryan? Were you just out and about and saw some random guy and thought you should bring him  _ here  _ of all places, or did you fucking steal him from the back of an ambulance or some shit? If you did, that’s messed up as dicks man.” Geoff says, his tone light and sarcastic, much to Ryan’s annoyance.

“Geoff, stop fucking around and start helping me!”

“Why should we help you, Ryan?” An annoyed Ray asks from the security of a side hallway. “You just brought some random guy here, and he’s bleeding all over the place. Not to mention that, oh I don’t know, we’re illegal fucking criminals? You brought a random  _ civilian  _ to our dreary mafia base? In what  _ world  _ did that sound like a good fucking idea?” Ray spits, his voice filled with pure venom. Ryan sits in a stunned silence for a few moments, unable to process the man or his words. Ryan hadn’t expected to see him in the safe house due to their rather harsh fight that they'd had only a few hours prior. Though, Ryan was only silent momentarily before he went back to his demands.

“Ray, not now, now is  _ not  _ the time. I need Jack,  _ now _ !”

“What the  _ fuck _ is going on?” Jack asks, walking out from the bathroom, drying his hands on his pant legs, a confused and frantic look on his face.

“Jack, oh thank  _ god _ . I need your help, I found this man hidden in the bushes up by the observatory, he looks like he’s in really bad shape and he needs help urgently!” Ryan explains, his mouth moving a mile a minute, Jack struggling to make out the words he was saying.

“Woah, hold up, you just  _ found  _ this guy on the fucking  _ mountain  _ and you brought him here?” Michael asks, having had re-entered the foyer after hearing all the commotion. 

“Well, yes. I’ll admit, I thought that it may have not been the greatest idea, but I know Jack’s good, he can help! Can’t you, Jack?” Ryan asks, hopeful.

“I don’t-”

“Wait, hold the fucking phone for a second. I recognize this guy.” Ray says, squinting his eyes to focus further on the injured man’s marred face. His expression remains static for a few moments, but with a loud yell his expression turns anguished quickly.

“What the fuck, I know where I remember this guy from. He was there!”

“Wait, he was where, Ray?” Geoff asks, confusion heavy in his voice.

“At the fucking deal! Last night, with that crew that was arrested this morning! Somehow he didn’t end up with the rest of them. Why the fuck did you bring  _ him  _ of all people to our fucking  _ crew safe house _ ?” Ray yells, his voice angry with a small hint of betrayal.

“I-I didn’t-” Ryan stammers, pulling off the man’s hood to get a better look at his face. After a few moments, he recognizes him. He was the mystery man that was stood anxiously in the back during the deal yesterday.

“ _ Bullshit _ !” Ray exclaims, his voice high. 

“Wait, Ryan, is he telling the truth?” Jack asks, voice serious and controlled.

“Well, yes, but-” Ryan starts, but his interrupted again.

“See! Now can you see why this is such a stupid idea?” Ray asks, his voice filled with anger, his eyes burning holes into Ryan’s skull.

“Guys, can we have this stupid fucking argument later? He’s fucking  _ dying _ ! Let Jack get to working on him and you guys can fight with me then. But now is  _ not _ the time!” Ryan yells, his voice bordering on pleading.

Geoff sighs heavily, running a hard hand over his face before he turns to Jack.

“Can you fix him?”

Jack sits silently for a moment before nodding.

“I can definitely try.”

Ryan quickly storms over, handing the man’s body over to Jack with extreme urgency. Jack accepts the bloodied body with ease, and walks out quickly, setting off towards his workshop. 

“ _ What the fuck? _ ” Ray cries out, his voice high with confusion and anger.

“Ray-” Geoff tries, but not no avail.

“Why did you let him do that? How are you okay with this?”

“ _ Enough!  _ I’m not letting you guys turn this into a stupid fucking couples quarrel! So shut it!” Geoff yells, far louder than anyone in the room. Ray falls silent, fuming to himself in the spot that he was stood, his face growing red with anger. 

“Ryan, this was a fucking stupid move, but I’m sure you already know that. Tomorrow, I’m questioning that guy for every piece of information he knows, and I’m not letting him out of here until I knows he isn’t a threat. This doesn’t just end here.” Geoff tells him, his voice authoritative and demanding. 

“As long as he gets help, I’m fine with anything.” Ryan says, his voice quiet and resigned.

“Okay then, all of you are dismissed. This isn’t any of your problem anymore, so stop talking about it. Don’t even so much as think about it. I’ve got it handled from here. Now get out.” 

With that, everyone turned around and went back to whatever they had been doing prior. Michael walked back into the kitchen, mumbling something about “fucking crazy people”. Ray stormed off down the hall, going into his personal room before slamming the door hard against its frame. Ryan simply stood in the foyer, tired and covered in the other man’s blood. Geoff sighed once before walking back over to the couch, hitting play on the TV, the sound of the cooking show he was watching filling the apartment’s thick, tense silence. 

Ryan stood still for a few moments before he sighed and walked off towards the couch as well, taking a seat a few cushions away from Geoff. He sat silently, half watching the random show Geoff had put on, half lost in his own thoughts. In his mind, questions raced around, all trying to compete for attention. Who was that man? Why hadn’t Ryan consciously noticed that he was the man from the deal? How did he end up so injured? How did he end up all the way in the hills near the observatory? All of these questions remained stuck in his mind, leaving Ryan confused and lost. Maybe after Geoff questioned him things would make more sense. Maybe some of these questions would be answered.

Though, a few just had to be answered by Ryan himself.


	3. III

“Who are you? Why are you here?” A loud voice demands, his voice echoing off the bare walls. The man remains silent for a moment, taking the time to look over the man in front of him. He was leaning on the table that they were sat at, clearly trying to establish a sense of dominance over him. The thought of that made him chuckle, finding it rather amusing that any man thought that they could intimidate him. How sweet of a thought, though.

His questioner stood still, staring intently at the mystery man’s blackened and bruised eyes, awaiting an answer. Though, the room remained silent, the air tense and thick. Apparently, the man didn’t appreciate the lack of answers, slamming his hand down on the table before leaning in closer.

“Listen buddy, I don’t want to be the type of guy to have to threaten violence, but if I need to in order to get answers, I will. Don’t test me, asshole.” The interviewer demands, lowering his voice down to a harsh low growl. The man continues to stare into his damaged eyes, looking for any sort of an answer.

Deciding that it would be easier to just answer, the mystery man attempts to answer out loud, his voice only coming out at a whisper.

“I’m not here to mean any harm,” He replies, answering no question in particular. His thick English accent rolled off of each word, particularly heavy with the swelling on his face. The interviewer grunts in response, showing a clear distaste in the answer he received.

“You know, you say that now, but I’m not an idiot. I’ve heard that many times before, each time before I found a pistol stuck to my temple. So, please forgive me if I don’t believe you. Now, let’s try this again. Who are you?”

The stranger clears his throat once, letting out a noise of pain before attempting to speak.

“I’m nobody, believe me. If you looked me up you’d have no luck, I’m as off the radar as a person can be while still existing in the world.”

“What affiliations have you had in the criminal ring of Los Santos?” The interviewer asks, not even acknowledging his previous answer.

“Only a few, but I’ve never been a predominant force in any criminal crew. I’ve always been on the sidelines or shoved in the back, forced away from any central operations. Therefore, I’ve never taken part exclusively in any crew in the city.”

“Then why are you here?” The interviewer demands, his voice rough.

“I was hoping you could answer that for me.”

The interviewer sits, staring blankly at the mystery man’s face, scanning for any sort of answer as to his identity. He stared for many minutes, silence standing consistent in the heavy air. Eventually he spoke, sighing deeply before the words left his mouth.

“I think we’re done here.”

With that, the man left, the heavy door of the questioning chamber slamming behind him, leaving the man alone in dark silence.

 

* * *

 

 

The morning sun over downtown Los Santos was enchanting, the light reflecting off of the windows of the skyscrapers, dancing off the water from the pier before seemingly reflecting all back into Ryan’s penthouse window. With a groan he threw the sheets off of the bed, reluctantly waking up from his sleep. The morning was always hellish, with the morning sun pouring in the windows in the early hours of the morning, waking him from his sleep that he had only fallen into maybe two hours prior. Sleep never came easy to Ryan, especially not last night given the events that had transpired between him and Ray, and especially in the crew safe house. Ryan wasn’t sure what he’d be walking into today when he arrived, but something told him that it wouldn’t be good.

Having already gotten up from his large bed, he quickly walked over to the bathroom, throwing on the shower with ease before undressing and getting slowly inside. He never had been the kind of person to enjoy long showers, so he was out in a matter of minutes, redressing for the day ahead before applying his facepaint, fully aware that he would have a job to do today. 

Once the paint was at his meticulous standards, Ryan walked out of the bathroom, not even bothering to flip off the lights as he went. Avoiding breakfast, Ryan gathered his keys and another leather jacket in his hands before leaving the apartment, headed down to the underground garage. He chose his Zentorno, hoping to have time to clean the interior from all the accumulated blood due to the night before. As he thought about it, he remembered that he would have to ask Jack today how the man was doing, if he had even made it through the night. Ryan, unsure about why, felt nervous at the thought of the man having not survived. This along with his feelings made his stomach churn with unease, but he ignores it as he gets into the driver's seat of his car.

Driving the streets of busy downtown came naturally to Ryan, so he sped through them with ease, arriving at the Fake AH penthouse in no time at all. He pulled into the garage quickly, choosing to park next to Michael’s car this time rather than his usual spot, which had always been next to Ray’s. Even thinking of the man made Ryan’s blood boil, the memories of the words and accusations that had been said to him coming back at the thought of the man. He simply chose to put it out of his mind, refusing to even think of the man at all. 

WIthin no time Ryan was up in the penthouse, sitting at the kitchen table after grabbing himself a cup of black coffee. Michael was already sat next to him, nodding once in greeting as Ryan sat, taking a large swig of his own coffee before putting the mug down on the table. Across from them sat an angry looking Ray playing on his cell phone, and a tired looking Jack, who seemed to be downing each cup of the liquid as if his life depended on it. Taking one more drink, Ryan cleared his throat before speaking up.

“Hey Jack?”

The man looks up at Ryan and hums into his cup, mid drink.

“How’s the guy doing? You look like hell, so I’m guessing not very well...” Ryan inquires, his voice dropping at the end to a worried tone. Across the table, Ray scoffs before going back to playing on his cell phone.

“Oh, no. He’s doing okay. I’m just exhausted because I had to keep myself awake to keep an eye on him. After I patched him up, though, he seemed to start doing better. I had to sew up a huge gash on his side, and he had a few badly bruised ribs, but once I gave him some ice and painkillers he seemed to start doing fine. He even got his ability to talk back in the middle of the night. He’s nice enough, I don’t see anything wrong with him,” Jack replies honestly, his voice level but tired. Ryan nods, a slight relieved smile pulling on the edge of his lips at hearing the news. 

“That’s good, I’m glad to hear it. He was in pretty bad shape when I found him,” Ryan says, voice filled with a jovial tone. Though, across from him Ray scoffs again and rolls his eyes, never looking up from his phone. Ryan frowns, not appreciating the man’s rudeness.

“Ray, do you have a problem over there?” Ryan asks, defensively. Ray rolls his eyes once more and a smirk plays on the edge of his lips before he speaks up.

“No, no, I just think it's oh so cute that you’re so concerned about the little mistake you brought into our cozy little home. It’s so  _ lovely _ to see!” Ray answers, pure sarcasm dripping from every word, much to Ryan’s infuriation.

“Well, Ray, forgive me if I refuse to apologize for saving a man’s life. After all, it is something  _ you _ would never do,” Ryan shoots back, words venomous and sharp. Ray makes a face of hurt for a moment, but it quickly morphs back into his smirk from before, masking the previous feeling entirely. 

“I’ve saved plenty of lives, Ryan. I seem to recall saving yours quite a few times. The only difference between us here is that I didn’t put the crew in danger like you did last night. I’ll tell you what, I’ll be happy to see Geoff kick your sorry ass out of the crew faster than you can say ‘I saved his life’.”

“Guys, enough!” Jack exclaims, face pained by the arguing of two of his closest friends right in front of him. “No one’s getting kicked out-”

“You don’t know that,” Ray interrupts, staring daggers into Ryan’s skull across from him.

“ _ No one’s getting kicked out _ ,” Jack repeats moving his gaze back and forth between the two men. “Geoff won’t let that happen. Sure, maybe Ryan fucked up and made a mistake, oh well, no big deal. Ray, I seem to recall several instances where  _ you _ fucked up just as bad, so no one is above the other in this situation. Hell, me and Michael haven’t even said anything in this whole matter, but we sure as hell aren’t innocent either in the history of this crew. We’ve  _ all _ done things at some point in time, but we’ve never gotten punished at the detriment to the crew. So you guys need to suck it up and cut the shit,” Jack explains, his tone growing fed up at the end. To Ryan’s right, Michael nods, clearly in agreeance with Jack’s statement. 

Ryan knew he was right, everyone in the crew has done things in the past, and no matter how severe they were, Geoff had never kicked anyone out or given anyone anything more than a stern talking to and a slap on the wrist. The only reason Ryan still found himself fighting back was the fact that Ray seemed dedicated to pushing all the wrong buttons, much to Ryan’s anger. He didn’t want to fight, but he felt compelled to fight for the man that couldn’t fight for himself. The reason for that Ryan wasn’t completely certain.

“Jack’s right, you know,” Geoff says as he walks into the room, car keys in hand as he had just arrived. Though, everyone had been so focused on the fight that was unfolding at the table that no one had noticed his entrance.

“I’m not kicking Ryan out,” Geoff continues, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m not kicking anyone out of this crew. As Jack said, all of you have fucked up, even me. No one’s innocent, and as long as no one’s dead then I see no reason to go to that extreme.”

“But-” Ray tries, but Geoff silences him with a raised hand.

“No, Ray. Just sit back and listen, I’m not going to fight with you too. Whatever vendetta you have against Ryan is your business, but I refuse to put up with it. No one has died because of what Ryan did, therefore he won’t be severely punished.”

Ryan sighs in relief, letting out a breath that he hadn’t known he was holding. Though, as Geoff turns to him, he tenses up once more.

“However, Ryan, this could’ve ended badly, but I’m sure you know that already. I don’t know what went through your head that compelled you to decide that he should be brought here, but whatever happened, what’s done is done. Luckily, Jack was able to fix him up and I was able to question him late last night,” In the middle of Geoff’s speech, Jack stands up and excuses himself, walking downstairs to the room the injured man was kept in for a medical check up. The others don’t pay much mind, remaining focused on Geoff.

“After questioning him, I think it’s safe to say that he isn’t a threat to us. He claims that he wasn’t really involved with that crew, and that he was mostly just forced to be with them. That’s why he wasn’t taken in by police when the others were arrested. I’m still not sure how he got in as bad of shape as he’s in now, but in my mind that isn’t really important. He seems okay, and I’m sure if we felt like we needed information that Ryan would be willing to get it for us,” Geoff says, looking to Ryan at the end, to which Ryan nods in affirmation. 

“Okay, great. Other than that, I have nothing else to say on the matter really. I mean, the past several hours have been fucking weird and intense, but we’re all safe and shit so there really isn’t anything else to discuss.” Geoff says, shrugging at the end of his statement, losing his formal leadership tone for a more light and casual one.

“So,” Michael begins, providing his comments for the first time since the encounter had begun. “What’re we going to do with him, if he isn’t a threat to us? Do we just drop him off somewhere and let him go about his life or what?”

Geoff laughs once. “No, Michael, we aren’t just going to drop him off somewhere. At the moment, I say we let him stay with us until he gets back to better health, then we can all talk with him and see what he’d prefer to do.”

“But what are his options, though?” Ryan asks, curious.

“In my opinion, I say we let him decide whether he would like to go out on his own or stay with us in the crew. He’s clearly had crew experience in the past, so maybe he could be of help to us. Only if he wants to be, though, I’m not going to be the forcing hand in this matter, it’s all his decision.” Geoff answers, addressing all members in the room.

“That sounds fair,” Ryan responds.

“Sounds like a plan, boss!” Michael exclaims, adding a salute to the end of his statement.

“Whatever…” Ray grumbles, not looking up from his phone once again.

“Alright then,” Geoff claps his hands together once, “sounds like we have a good plan!”

Suddenly the sound of heavy feet on the stairs fills the air, the steps hitting the ground at a fast tempo, indicating a rather large degree of urgency.

“Guys!” Jack yells from his spot on the stairs, out of breath. “We have a problem.”

“What do you mean, Jack?” Ryan asks, his voice worried and uncertain.

“It’s the guy,” Jack continues, his words spilling out quickly.

“Well, what about him?” Michael queries.

“He’s missing.”


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forever, but I'm finally getting back to writing this. I'm really liking where these developments are going in the planning, so I plan on completing this in full and I really hope I can get some followers with this story. I've been working really hard on it, and I hope people will start to notice it. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

The creaky door lets out a shrill shriek as it is opened once again. The office is dim still, the only light being the old desk lamp that has been on for most likely over 24 hours now. Even though the sheriff had been in the office all day, with the sun high in the cloudless sky, he still hadn’t opened the dusty blinds to let in any natural light. So, the dingy lamp remained lit, and the room remained as musty and uncomfortable as it had been the last time the man had visited- before all the chaos and commotion, and before it had all gone to shit.

This time, the sheriff didn’t even bother looking up at the new presence, just simply grunted out a command of “sit”, followed by the gesture of one finger to the undusted chair in front of his desk. The visitor quickly shut the squeaking door, running a rather hesitant and disgusted hand over the chair before sitting down. 

Once sat, the sheriff removed his thick-rimmed black glasses and stared into the visitor’s emerald eyes with his own bloodshot and tired ones. Once he had surveyed his face, his expression changed from merely ambivalent to completely appalled. His jaw fell open, and the newcomer cringed at the thought of all the dust that was in the air and how it was now probably taking home in his mouth. He gagged, then cringed at the sudden movement of his battered and bruised face.

“What the fuck happened to you?” The sheriff demanded, his voice shrill with confusion and worry. 

“There was a… situation, if you will-”

“What kind of situation?”

“Well, if you’d let me finish my damn sentences, then maybe I could tell you, you minge!”  The visitor exclaimed, annoyed.

“Fine, fine, tell your fucking story or whatever the fuck,” The sheriff relented, waving his hand through the musty air of the office.

“When I gave you the intel on that last crew- which was bloody good intel, I’ll tell you that- apparently some of them had managed to evade the LSPD and found me. I was waiting to talk with some of your agents that had gotten them, but they found me in the warehouse first, and they beat the shit out of me. Then they took me and dumped me off of the road up by the observatory,” He explained, a pained look on his face as the memories flooded back.  _ Blood, pain, screaming… _

“Shit,” The sheriff puffed out, running a hand through his short-cut hair. “That’s completely fucked. How did you get out of there? Clearly you didn’t die, because you’re here, but how did you  _ get here _ ? How did you recover?”

The man took a deep breath and sighed, the air slipping out from his teeth.

“Someone found me. Someone found me up there, thrown and bleeding to death off the road. He...he helped me. He took me back to his friends, or who I believe could be his friends, and one of them fixed me. He stitched me up and gave me painkillers, he even talked to me late last night while I couldn’t sleep- every time I closed my eyes, there was blood, Burnie, so much blood,” He continued, his words speeding up and his voice becoming pained, “It was my blood, they left me laying in a pool of  _ my own blood _ , for christ’s sake-” He couldn’t help but stop, his voice cutting off as he choked out a suppressed, pained sob.

“Hey, hey, everything will be okay. You say that this guy, he fixed you up? Who was he?”

The visitor drew in a deep breath, attempting to stabilize his heart rate and stop the shakes rattling his body. 

“I...I don’t know. If he told me his name, I don’t remember it. I think I remember the eldest one’s name though, the one that seemed to be in charge of their little group.”

“What name do you remember?”

“I think he said something along the lines of Ramsey or something like that-”

“Wait, did you say Ramsey?” Burnie asked, eyes wide and tone urgent.

“Uhm, yes? Is that wrong? I mean I may not be the best source of  information, given the monstrous beating I just suffered, but whatever,” He rambled, eyes wandering around the dim room.

“Does the name Geoff ring a bell to you, by any chance?”

“Yes! Or at least I think so, I think that was the name of the guy that was trying to interview me last night. He definitely used a lot of threats, that’s for damn sure.”

“Shit, I think we may have just hit the criminal goldmine and it wasn’t even planned!” The sheriff exclaimed, rolling his chair over slightly to look at his computer screen. His eyes remained laser focused on the screen as his fingers flicked across his keyboard, and as soon as he stopped typing he flipped the screen around to direct it to the visitor’s eyes. On the screen, there was an electronic file, and in the upper left hand corner was a face that he found it hard to forget; or rather, the  _ moustache _ that he found it hard to forget. 

“That’s the guy! That ‘stache is  _ ace _ ! I couldn’t forget that shit even if I tried.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda his signature around this city, no one else has a handlebar moustache quite as tidy and groomed as Geoff Ramsey. He runs one of the most notorious crews around the entire city, and he does so with an even smaller crew than most have,” Burnie explains as he scrolls downward to find the man’s list of charges and offenses. The page seemed infinite, and the sheriff just kept scrolling and scrolling, still seeming to never near the bottom. 

“That’s mingin’. What crew does he run? If it’s so large I figured that I would know him,” The man asks, and the sheriff just snorts and begins to laugh heartily. 

“He runs The Fake AH Crew, the most dangerous and most fucked up crew in Los Santos. We’ve been trying to pin them down for  _ years _ , never having any luck in getting them all thrown in jail. Even when we manage to get most of them pinned down, the others that somehow got away manage to come back and fuck it all up again, and then all of a sudden all we have is zero most wanted crew members and a bunch of bloodied and dead officers. The worst part of it all is that they genuinely seem to  _ enjoy it _ , all of the chaos and destruction that they cause. One of them, this guy,” Burnie gestures to his screen as he pulls up a file of a man wearing an intimidating black skull mask, “is their most dangerous member. The Vagabond as he’s known, since no one seems to know his real name. That is, if he even has one; he’s such a cold blooded killer I wouldn’t doubt that he only goes by the Vagabond at this point.”

“What does he do that’s so bad and dangerous?”

“He kills, mostly- that’s his specialty. He’s known for being so merciless that he just kills, anything and everything that he feels like. Without him, yeah, there would still be bloodshed, but  _ with  _ him, the amount grows exponentially. Tragically exponentially. We’re talking the difference between ten and hundreds of people-  _ hundreds _ .”

“That’s...that’s horrid. Bloody awful,” the visitor remarked, and his eyes focused onto the picture of the masked criminal. As he stared, he wondered what could possess someone to kill so mercilessly. Sure, the city was filled with crime; rather, it was like a glass  _ overflowing  _ with crime, as if someone had left the faucet of drug rings and murder running for the last 20 years. 

The visitor frowned, reflecting on where he had been only 24 hours ago, the pain washing over his body in endless, crashing waves and the constant flow of deep red that flowed from his abdomen. Sometimes he regretted living in Los Santos, getting himself involved in all the shit that happened in the city, but sometimes he was reminded that not all people were as bad as the people he dealt with. He just wished that everyone could be as kind and compassionate as the man that had rescued him off of that mountain had been. Not just anyone would pick up a bloody and battered man off of the street; actually, just about nobody would nowadays.

“Yeah, no shit it’s awful. I’ve seen the things that that guy is capable of, and I’d prefer to never see it again. The amount of fear that flows through this city just because of the mere  _ rumors  _ of him is enough to scare anyone. I hate that it’s in my city, and I want it stopped for good,” The sheriff growled, turning his head away from his computer screen to stare at the stranger. It was silent for a moment, the visitor shifting uncomfortably under the sharp stare of the man. Eventually, the sheriff spoke up, pulling a file out of his desk and slapping it onto the dusty desk, dust flying every which way upon impact.

“I want him gone- I want them  _ all  _ gone,” The sheriff hissed lowly, a scowl on his face as he used one hand to open the file. Once open, the sheriff spun the file towards the stranger, and he looked it over briefly before glancing up at the sheriff again. Before he had the chance to ask about the file, the sheriff was speaking again.

“I want them all gone,” he repeated, the grim tone still in his voice, “and I want you to be the one to help me.” He gestured to the open file once with an open palm, and the mystery man took the manilla file in his hands to read it closer. 

“That will be your new identity that you’ll be taking on. I need you to infiltrate this crew, you’ve already been in there briefly, so you could easily make your way deeper in.”

“But this isn’t even an alias,” The stranger states, confusion in his voice as he points a finger towards the alias name. “This is my actual name.”

“Well, yes,” Burnie affirms, “I left this one to be your real name. I feel like if we use your true name, Ramsey will be more likely to trust you if he happens to run the name through a database and actually come up with records of some kind. Just in case he does that, I’ve gone through all of your personal files and moved anything that ties you to helping the LSPD to a different name. Then, if he searches up your name, he won’t be able to find anything attached to us. You’ll appear just like anyone else would, and he’s more likely to let you into crew operations,” Burnie explains, “Hell, I even added a few fake traffic tickets in there to make you seem more normal than you are. There is one thing that’s different with that alias though.”

“What could be any different, it's  _ me _ Burnie. Except for the traffic tickets part, you know I don't drive myself around if I can help it.”

The sheriff let out a long sigh before looking the stranger directly in the eyes. 

“After this is over,” he begins, “once we have The Fake AH Crew finally, I'm burning your file. Who knows what these guys could try once they find out that you've helped to get them in prison. We can't risk it. So, I'm going to burn your entire file and everything tied to you will be gone. I'll give you a new identity, and that will be yours from now on. You won't be working with us anymore, this is the absolute last mission you have for the entirety of the LSPD. Once you get your new identity, you'll get the fuck out of Los Santos and that's it.”

The man in front of the sheriff just stared blankly at him as he spoke, but once he finished he simply just nodded. 

“If it's what you need to do, okay. I've been working with you for a long time now, Burnie, I trust your judgement, even if it means that I technically don't exist anymore,” He says, a slight dejection in his voice but his voice remained level and calm. 

“Alright then. Well, you should get back to the penthouse where they took you. I'm sure they're going batshit insane looking for you right now anyways, and with this mission you don't want to cause any trouble at the beginning. I'll be in touch with the next step, but for now just get comfortable- don't worry about being sneaky, everything is fine,” the sheriff instructs, and the stranger nods in understanding. As the sheriff puts his thickly rimmed glasses back onto his nose, the stranger stands and makes his way towards the door. 

“Hey, before you leave,” Burnie calls out to him, and the man stops and turns slightly to look at him. “Good luck, I know you'll do well. Have fun, Gavin Free- it's the last time “Gavin” will get to have fun.”

The stranger- Gavin -nods and turns the squeaking door handle before making his way out into the evening light of Los Santos.

 

* * *

Around the Fake AH Crew penthouse, chaos wasn't uncommon. With a crew that could be the perfect example of “organized chaos”, they weren't completely unused to loud yelling all around the apartment, whether it be Michael yelling at someone, or if it be Ray screaming as he tries to perfect the newest game that had just hit the stores for the Xbox during his time when he wasn't on a job. 

Geoff had never been unfamiliar with the insanity, considering this was his crew; his crew that he had built from the bottom up, starting with just him and Jack, and a vague dream to run the most powerful crew in the city. At the time, it had only seemed like a dream, but now, it was a reality that Geoff woke up to every day of his life. 

Even though he had built the crew by himself, and therefore he had experienced every single bit of insanity since the beginning, that didn't mean that he wasn't growing more and more frustrated as he sat and listened to Ray and Ryan yelling at one another about how their mysterious visitor had gone missing during the night. 

“Ryan, do you understand that he's probably out there  _ right now  _ giving out the location to our safehouse as we speak? Do you realize that we could all  _ die _ from this?” Ray yelled, his voice cracking occasionally as his anger rose. 

“Nobody is going to fucking die, Ray, stop being so damn dramatic. He wouldn't do anything like that anyways-”

“How the fuck do you know?” Ray screeched in reply, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. It was a good thing everyone else was keeping a distance from the two, given that Ray's movements were so harsh and violent that they could probably accidentally knock someone unconscious. 

“ _ I just know! _ ” Ryan screamed, leaning down slightly as to get in Ray's face. 

“ _ Shut the fuck up! _ ” 

All in the penthouse grew deathly quiet in an instant, and all crew members turned to the source of the demand. All eyes met Geoff's angry and tired ones, which just stared blankly at each and every person in the room. 

“Arguing isn't getting us anywhere. In fact, we've probably let him get even further away in the amount of time that the two of you have been here pissing and screaming at each other,” Geoff asserted, pointing a hard finger at Ray, then quickly at Ryan. “We just need to find him, that needs to be our priority right now.”

Everyone remained silent, but there was no defiance to Geoff’s request; all of them just remained silent but kept eye contact with their leader. Geoff let out a breath he had sucked in during his angry rant, and he instantly felt calmer. With his mind more at ease, he drew in a deep breath before speaking again.

“Okay, do we have any idea whee he could’ve gone off to?” He asked calmly, eyes wandering to each member stood around the room. Most of them either shrugged or shook their heads slowly, but as Geoff laid his eyes on Jack, the man spoke up quietly.

“I feel like he couldn’t have gone far,” Jack said, “He was pretty injured, not necessarily with his legs or anything, but those broken ribs weren’t minor and could be extremely painful once the pain meds that I gave him last night wear off. I mean, it’s not great if he’s out on the street collapsed in pain, but at least it gives us a chance of finding him.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Geoff agreed, nodding slightly.

“I’m not as worried about him giving out information on us than I am about him being gone and being hurt that badly,” Jack confessed, and everyone but Ray seemed to agree with the statement, given that everyone was quiet until Ray spoke up.

“Why do we care so much about this fucker anyways?” Ray asked, venom in his voice. “He’s the one who got himself injured by getting involved with some shitty crew and now we have to clean up the mess? Doesn’t that seem ridiculous to anyone?”

“We’re not cleaning up any mess, Ray,” Jack asserted, before Geoff interjected with, “Criminal or not, he’s still a fucking person, Ray.”

“He didn’t do anything to directly hurt us, and if it seems like he will, then we take care of it,” Geoff lectured, continuing, “But he was just an injured person who needed help last night, it’s not as if he staged the whole thing to come in here and plant a hidden bomb or something.”

“That we know of,” Ray muttered underneath his breath, and everyone around made a noise of frustration.

“You know what, Ray,” Geoff began, clear frustration in his voice, “If you don’t like this plan, then fine. But if I have to sit here and listen to this anymore, I’m going to be fucking angry. So regardless of if you approve of this or not, you need to shut your damn mouth and keep to yourself, because I’m not dealing with this anymore.” 

Ray bit his lip in annoyance, but after seemingly thinking and failing to find any retorts, he just nodded and sighed, no words leaving his mouth.

“Good. Now, do we have any idea how we should go about finding this guy?” Geoff questioned, and everyone around him seemed as perplexed as he was. 

“Well I guess we could-” Michael began, but was cut off by a weak knock on the penthouse front door. The knock repeated three times, and everyone looked at one another, all seeming to be playing a silent game of “not it” with only their eyes.

“Fine, I guess I’ll do it then,” Michael grumbled, walking towards the front door with long strides. He placed his hand on the door handle quickly before yanking down on it with force, throwing the door open. Outside the door stood the man from the night before, his dirty blond hair still slightly matted with blood from the cuts and scrapes on his face, and his bruised arms hugging his abdomen tightly. 

“I guess we could look out the front fucking door,” Michael continued his thought from before the interruption, rolling his eyes as Jack strode towards the man quickly, barely managing to catch him before his legs gave out from beneath him due to the pain. The man let out a choked sound as he fell into Jack’s arms, but after he relaxed, he seemed to be relatively okay. Or, as okay as someone can be who had previously gotten the shit beat out of them.

“Holy shit, you’re back,” Ryan exclaimed, walking towards the man. Everyone around seemed shocked, as that was the first time that Ryan had broken his silence since the fight between him and Ray.

The stranger took a few moments before speaking up, his voice raspy. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. I kinda woke up and had no idea what was going on, so I snuck out. But of course, my stupid arse didn’t even realize that it was because I was hurt until I was trying to get back here and collapsed on the sidewalk. Luckily there was no one around, so I just picked myself up and kept walking here. Sorry if you didn’t want me to come back,” He apologized, before going into a coughing fit. Jack gestured for someone to get him a glass of water as he carried the man towards the couch in the penthouse living room. Michael quickly brought over a glass of water from the pitcher that had been on the counter in the kitchen and handed it to Jack, who began to gently tip the glass back to allow the man to drink. He drank quickly, and within a matter of seconds the entire glass was gone and the man cleared his throat.

“Much better,” He sighed, relieved now of his coughing fit and his sore throat. When he spoke, his voice was no longer raspy, but more clear and his accent appeared to be thicker now.

Everyone around had their eyes on his exhausted form laying on their couch, save for Ray, who had decided to sit at one of the barstools in the kitchen, staring down at his phone. 

“You came back,” Geoff stated, reiterating what Ryan had said earlier when he had first arrived. He walked over towards the couch, choosing not to sit down but still held the man’s gaze. There was no anger in Geoff’s eyes, but rather a significant amount of concern which was almost enough to mirror the amount of concern in Jack’s. 

“Yeah, uh,” The man began, uncertain, “I came back. Again, I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to-”

“You’re fine, we were actually just talking about going to find you. Not for any sort of malicious reasons, but because we were concerned about your injuries. It sounds like we had the right to be, too,” Geoff reassured him, and the man gave a faint smile before flinching at the pain that flared from the cuts on his face. Jack stood up from the couch and excused himself quietly, running downstairs to gather some of his medical supplies. 

“Yeah, well, it was my fault for being dumb and not paying more attention to them,” The stranger confessed and shrugged, ignoring the pain in his ribs as he did so.

“Hey, we all do that sometimes,” Michael chimed in, his voice light and a small grin on his face. When the two made eye contact with one another, both of them shared a smile and a few laughs before they were interrupted by Jack re-entering the room, his bright red medic box in his hand. 

Within seconds, he pulled out a bottle of water and a bottle of heavy-grade painkillers and handed them over to the man who took them eagerly. Once he had them all down, he slumped back against the arm of the couch weakly, wincing as his ribs moved uncomfortably against the hard surface.

“We should let him sleep some,” Jack suggested quietly, watching as the man struggled to keep his eyes open. Each time his eyes would begin to close, he would force them back open again in an attempt to keep awake. Though, it was all in vain as immediately after, his eyes would begin to slip closed against his will once more. 

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s exhausted. We all know how injuries like these go and how truly shitty they make you feel,” Geoff agreed, and motioned Michael and Ryan over to help carry him downstairs to the bedroom that never got used for anyone except for when they got injured. The two men approached quickly, gently lifting the man whilst simultaneously attempting to figure out what the best way was to get the man downstairs. By this point, he was more or less completely asleep, and he didn’t even flinch as he was lifted up by Ryan and carried in his arms towards the stairs. Michael began to follow behind Ryan, but Ryan shook his head and Michael remained stood in the living room. 

Ryan’s footsteps were quiet as he descended the stairs, and as he reached the bottom of the stairs he kicked the door to the informal infirmary open quietly. Even though he was quiet, the man in his arms still stirred slightly, humming as he forced his heavy lidded eyes open once again. He turned his head to look up at Ryan, his emerald green eyes still sharp despite the clear exhaustion inside them. Ryan held the eye contact for awhile, his facial expression blank and emotionless. He had gotten so used to reverting into that state after so many years with the crew, he usually found himself doing it unconsciously. 

Though, as the two held each other’s gaze calmly and silently, Ryan felt something soften and realized he had a small smile on his face. He quickly reverted back to his stony and rigid expression, and based on the slight look of disappointment in the stranger's eyes as he did so, he had clearly noticed the change as well. Ryan chose to ignore that fact and continued towards the bed and began to set the man down onto it, his eyes closed again. He watched the man briefly for a few moments, his eyes closed restfully, before he turned and began to walk out of the room. Though, once he began to close the door behind him, he heard the distinct accent come from behind him.

“Wait!” The man attempted to exclaim, before ending up in another coughing fit. He reached for the room-temperature glass of water that he had been given the night before when he’d first arrived. Ryan hesitated, but then backed back into the room slowly and quietly, turning to face the worn man.

“You’re the one who found me,” The man stated weakly, his voice faint. Ryan nodded, and the man’s eyes softened. 

“Thank you, honestly. I wouldn’t have lived without you, I would’ve died up there,” He thanked, his voice growing more and more frantic as his thoughts raced back to that night in vivid detail. His eyes began to water as his breathing quickened, his bruised ribs screaming in protest. Ryan ran over to the bed quickly and sat himself on the edge, concern written all over his facial features.

“Hey, hey, you just need to breathe,” Ryan reassured him gently, “It’s just a panic attack, it’s okay. I get them all the time, I know how awful you feel right now. I need you to breathe though, okay? Can you breathe with me?”

The man nodded weakly and focused on Ryan’s face intently. Ryan slowly began to go into his own personal breathing repertoire for when he began to panic, and the man followed suit immediately. It took awhile before his breathing began to slow, but eventually he became more even and level and before long he was collapsing back onto the mound of feather pillows behind his head. 

“There you go, I’m sure that feels so much better,” Ryan whispered, and the man nodded feebly in response. 

“It does, thank you. I really appreciate it,” He confided sincerely, his tone purely genuine. 

The two were silent for awhile, and eventually Ryan decided that it would be better to let him rest and heal. He went to stand up slowly, but as he pressed down on the bed, he felt a fragile hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at the other man, whose eyes were only half open but were full of slightly more energy than he had had before. 

“You saved my life,” The frail man repeated once again, and Ryan nodded silently. “You saved my life and I don't even know your name.”

The two sat quietly, and Ryan's thoughts ran in circles inside of his mind. The internal debate within himself of what to do or what to say changed so quickly from one point to another he felt as if a fire could spark at any second within him and he could go up in flames, consumed by his thoughts and his silence. 

“They call me-” Ryan began, but the man interrupted him quickly. 

“They call you the Vagabond, I know. It's not exactly a secret, you're kind of well known around this city. I don't want to know what they call you, I want to know your name. After all, you did save my life, I feel entitled to know the name of who did such a momentous thing for me.”

Ryan sighed and ran a hand through his dark brown hair, the internal war continuing to rage on within him.

“My name is Ryan. Only the people in this penthouse know that and I intend to keep it that way. So please,” Ryan asked, “don't tell anyone else, okay?”

The man nodded his head in understanding, pulling his hand away from Ryan's shoulder in order to make a cross on his chest, right above his heart. Ryan chuckled slightly, a slight amount of relief spreading through his chest as if the burning hot flames had finally been put out. 

As Ryan watched, the man's eyes began to slip closed once again, and Ryan took that as his queue to leave him to rest. He pushed himself up off of the bed, this time meeting no resistance. He set off towards the door, pausing as he placed his hand onto the doorknob. 

“I saved your life,” Ryan began, and the man opened his eyes slightly. 

“I saved your life and I don't know your name. Since I saved your life, I feel like I'm entitled to know the name of the man that I saved,” Ryan confessed, repeating the other man's words nearly exactly to a tee. On the bed, the man gave a faint smile before letting out a breathy laugh.

“My name's Gavin. Hopefully that's as interesting as you were hoping for?” He joked, his previous smile forming into a smirk.

Ryan shrugged, a smirk of his own on his face as he opened the door and walked out, stopping just as the door was an inch from being shut. 

“It'll do,” Ryan said, before closing the door behind him all the way, allowing the man - Gavin - to finally recover in peace.

* * *

 

As Ryan made his way up the stairs, he heard the voices of Geoff and Jack as they spoke with one another, along with the occasional input of Michael’s higher pitched voice. Once he was back up on the main floor, the three men turned to look at him.

“How is he?” Jack questioned, “You were downstairs for awhile.”

“He’s fine, we were just talking,” Ryan reassured him, and Jack seemed to visibly relax as he released a breath he’d been keeping trapped inside. Jack was a great caretaker and there was no doubt that he loved taking care of everyone, but it sure did allow his anxiety to get the better of him most of the time.

“He talked to you? What about?” Geoff inquired, one eyebrow raised in both suspicion and surprise.

“Nothing important, really. He was asking about how it had been me that had found him up by the observatory, and that eventually kinda set him off into a panic attack,” Ryan explained to his fellow crew members, all of them listening closely to him. 

“I helped him out of it, we all know I get my fair share of panic attacks. He seemed a lot better after that happened, I think he needed to get some of that residual terror out from that night. After that, he gave me his name and I left it at that, he looked fuckin’ exhausted.”

“He gave you his name?” Geoff asked, surprised, “He wouldn’t give me it last night when I pulled him for that interrogation.”

“He was still in shock, Geoff. Can you blame the kid? He got the living shit beat out of him and he had to sit in the middle of nowhere in an astronomical amount of pain that I can’t even fathom. I doubt that he even wanted to talk at all,” Jack pointed out, sympathy in his voice.

“Hell, Geoff, if you got the shit beat out of you and woke up in a strange place, and then realized it’s with a big time crew that essentially runs this city, wouldn’t you be a little tight-lipped with any kind of personal info?” Michael questioned, and Geoff responded to him with an exaggerated eye roll.

“Yeah, yeah, okay assholes, I get it. I’ll talk to him in the morning after he’s been all rested up, hopefully then he can talk with me. I feel like it’s a good sign that he gave you his name, Ryan.”

“Yeah, I asked and he gave it. No last name, but if he gave me his first name I’m sure he’ll give you his full name. I don’t get the impression that he has anything to hide,” Ryan says, before adding in a lower tone, “Except for maybe when he just happened to wander out of our penthouse for several hours.”

“Things happen when you’re in shock, Ry. Plus, I don’t doubt that he has a head injury given the wounds all over his face. His amnesia isn’t incredibly uncommon,” Jack insisted as Ryan looked at him in disbelief, his suspicions running rampant inside his head. Sure, in his sane and rational mind, he knew that Jack’s statements held merit, but everyone knew that no one had called Ryan  _ Vagabond  _ Haywood sane in a very, very long time. 

“Well, I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m going home. I don’t think I can stand to sleep here another night, my bed at my place is way more comfortable. Plus, I know that there’s a fresh and new unopened bottle of whiskey sitting in my cabinet that I can’t wait to get into. I’ll be back tomorrow morning to talk to the kid,” Geoff announced, before setting off towards the penthouse door. Michael began to walk beside him, and Ray stood up from the couch and followed from behind.

“I’m staying the night tonight, I know in about four hours when those painkillers wear off, he’ll be going insane. I’ll give him more in a few hours and keep an eye on him,” Jack explained, walking into the kitchen to pull out a box of leftover cold pizza they had ordered two days prior after a job. 

“I’ll stay too,” Ryan said, and Geoff looked at him in confusion.

“Why?”

“Just in case he decides to try to wander off again. Amnesia or not, I’m not going through this fucking stress again of wondering where he is, which leads to all the yelling and shit. I’ll just stay.”

“Okay, whatever you want to do, Ry,” Geoff conceded, and waved a small goodbye to him and Jack as he and the two others made their way through the front door, shutting it with a pronounced  _ thud _ . 

Jack and Ryan looked at one another for a few moments, but just as Jack opened his mouth to speak, Ryan turned on his heel and set off down the stairs once again. He hesitated briefly by the closed door to the infirmary, but then quickly walked to the door directly adjacent to it, shutting himself inside and settling on the bed. He knew he wouldn’t stand a chance in the nightly battle he engaged in with sleep, so he pulled the book he had been reading out of the bedside table next to him.

It was going to be a long night, and Ryan would be damned if he gave Gavin the chance to escape once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and let me know what you think of the story so far, I'm eager to hear feedback on this work!


End file.
